The Great Christmas Record Odyssey, Ep. CXLV

Hey sport, you mind if I sit down next to you on this here couch and sing a couple'a Christmas songs for ya? 

Album Title:  Christmas Greetings From

Album Artist:  Jerry Vale

We can thank Radio Wasteland's Dollar Bin for this score, and I picked it up because while the name rung some bells, I didn't know anything about this guy. Based on the album sleeve, I anticipated some sort of Johnny Mathis-ish crooner from the '50s or '60s, so that right there would give one a rough idea of what you're about to immerse yourself in. Nevertheless, I'm a sucker for Christmas albums comprised of only one artist, because unlike compilations or the like, you can get a better idea of of their range over the span of several songs. So Jerry has a dozen or so songs to convince me he can deliver on a Christmas album.

Going into this album, I should reiterate that I didn't know anything about Jerry Vale at all. Upon dropping the needle on Side A, he's definitely a crooner in the same vein as Mathis, or Perry Como, etc. Unlike those two, however, Jerry sounds like a sitcom dad singing. Like, the dude's voice just sounds like it's wrapped in a sweater vest and khakis, and isn't above having a heartfelt conversation with you on a floral couch after finding a pack of cigarettes in your sock drawer.

The song choices found in this album's track-list are all safe picks, with no left-field inclusions to be found anywhere. No original Christmas jams, thank God (smart move, Jerry.) If I had to take a quiz and hand-pick songs that I'd expect a crooner like this to cover for his Christmas album, I probably would have guessed correctly about 3/4 of the songs on this track-list  (and C's get degrees, folks.)

The production, mix and arrangements are all top-notch for the era (again, guessing '50s or early '60s), which tracks because I imagine this guy was a big deal back in the day, and probably sold a butt-load of albums to the same circles that were devouring Mathis and Como's works. This gives the album a few points, putting it on par (sonically) with albums like those Great Songs of Christmas compilations - the backing music is in the same vein.

Honestly, this album is far from horrible, but Jerry doesn't give any memorable performances here. At. All. None of these songs are Holiday classics. Using Como as a comparison, we can site several of that guy's Christmas songs as Seasonal standards in media and popular culture, but Jerry - while competent enough - just comes across as 'someone else doing more of the same.' He sings just like all those other '50s and '60s crooners, the music's just about the same too (he was probably featured on several of those Great Songs of Christmas compilations, come to think of it), but it just doesn't connect. 

It might be the tone of his voice, it's too 'nice' and almost gives the impression that this dude's idea of 'cutting loose' involves a nice slice of pie instead of a bourbon, neat.

If Perry Como is Jonathan Stamos on Full House, then Jerry Vale is Bob Saget. They're both male, father figures to the same girls, sure enough, but one of them has charisma in spades (hence you being able to identify several of Como's Christmas songs on the radio), while the other is incredibly disappointed he found your cigarettes. 

Not mad, just disappointed.

VERDICT:  4/10 - Borophyll (Another collection of '50s/'60s crooner-music, Christmas-style, this time from a guy who would probably refer to you as 'sport' in conversation.)

- SHELVED -

- Brian

The Great Christmas Record Odyssey, Ep. CXXIII

Greetings from the far reaches of the Holiday soundscape - from its dark, mildew-y corners, I bring you this Aryan relic. . .

Album Title:  White Christmas

Album Artist:  John Schneider

This dollar-bin find from Radio Wasteland was a no-brainer for Yours Truly, gang. I mean just look at this guy: one can't help but be immediately drawn to the blonde locks and overly-friendly countenance of what very well may be the whitest man of all time. Cozily wrapped up in a festive sweater so ugly Bill Cosby wouldn't touch that shit. 

I have no idea who John Schneider is, but based on the photos of homeboy on the outer sleeve, he's either a.) a Mormon missionary, b.) a Christian singer, or c.) a German pop star.

(If we're going with 'c' on this one, the title White Christmas takes on a notable, Third Reich sorta vibe.)

There's not a lot of information to gleam from these two photographs, and not much in the text to to give this guy much of a backstory (no 'From Our House to Yours' cheesiness to read through, no message from the producer). I could probably look up who this guy is on Wikipedia or whatever, buuuut I don't feel like opening up another tab right now.

Whoever he is, the production value on this album is pretty good. Like there's a legit band here, not some random asshole playing one of those keyboards where you can hit a button and suddenly F# sounds like a maraca. The arrangements are mixed well, too - it doesn't sound like someone's cousin recorded this with home equipment in a local church on a Thursday evening (because we get LOTS of that around here, it seems) - but holy shit, are they boring.

Schneider totally sounds like, say, an animated Prince Charming. All pure and innocent, with a hint of whimsy and a dash of heroic bravado (not that Prince Charmings ride into battle at the head of great host or anything, they're usually just gallivanting through a forest in tights - not sure why they even bother strapping on a sword.)  Listening to him sing, the guy's over-annunciation gives the impression that he's the sorta guy that doesn't know how to use contractions when speaking. No highs or lows in the vocals, no swagger or gun powder in the delivery, no over-the-top brashness like you often times get with those church-y Christmas singers. No conviction at all, really - just a guy singing words off a lyric sheet in a studio and collecting a paycheck. 

This is how a guy laying down tracks for a Disney character would do it - Schneider's probably moonlighting providing vocals for the love interest on Cinderella's Christmas Album.

He's not a terrible singer, I guess, but he's far from what I'd call 'pro' level. You know when you go out to a bar and when you walk in you notice there's people singing karaoke? And eventually a bunch of drunks drag one of their reluctant friends up on stage and, after a few moments of obligatory 'modest protesting,' the friends starts singing, and he's like surprisingly good?  You're like, 'Oh damn, this dude can actually sing.'  Know what I'm talking about?

Well, that's based on the civilian scale of singing ability, folks - like when you see an actress on TV and are all like, 'She's not that hot,' but you know if you passed her on the sidewalk you'd most likely have a heart attack and shit your pants. 

. . . .

We all do it, it's cool. It's not weird.

VERDICT:  4/10 - Borophyll (Prince Charming cuts a Christmas album and can't figure out why his true love would choose to remain asleep instead of being conscious for this snooze-fest.)

- SHELVED-

- Brian

The Great Christmas Record Odyssey, Ep. CXXII

Hey there. Let's jump into this one and, well, just see what we can wrap our heads around . .

Album Title:  A Christmas to Remember

Album Artist:  Various Artists

Right off the bat, I should let you guys know that this was one of the more difficult albums I've had to review for the Holidays. I first spotted it at Radio Wasteland in the dusty-as-all-hell Dollar Bin, and right away I thought this was going to be a total crap-fest, considering:

No, that's not The Band - it's The Christmas Boogie Band. Huge difference.

1.)  I didn't recognize a single artist on the track listing on the back of the sleeve, which is rarely a good sign. I mean, how hard is it really to book a C- or D-List artist for a Holiday record? How many absolute train wrecks have we seen over the years featuring abysmal 'talent' in their track listings? These dudes are always clamoring for spots on Christmas compilations like this, that's pretty much all they had once their mainstream careers began to dry up. 

2.)  The cover art is. . . something. You have Santa Claus, flying across a wintery landscape, like he's been known to do - directly in front of the moon like he's in E.T. or some shit. Down below on the ground is a herd of wild horses, watching on in what I can only assume is awe at the passing spectacle. Horses are skittish animals, guys, so this probably freaked them right the f*** out. Seeing a dude repeatedly cracking a whip across the backs of their quadruped cousins (are horses and reindeer distantly related?) as THEY FLY ACROSS THE SKY, IN CLEAR DEFIANCE OF GOD'S WILL.

Clearly whoever whipped this together was high as a damn kite.

But I digress. Let's get back to the point of this whole entry here, folks - let's analyze what this thing actually sounds like. 

Dropping the needle on Side A, we're met with some upbeat Tijuana-ish, South-of-the-Border jazz. As you all well know by now, this is most definitely my jam. I sat up, took notice, and was like, 'Oh damn, we might have a surprise keeper on our hands here!'

Remember this one, gang? Colored vinyl pressing of Christmas Disco for $12?

Then, right on its heels, came something different - a full-blown, Salsoul Orchestra-ish rendition of 'Jingle Bells.' Jarring, sure, considering it was preceded by a completely different sound, but not horrible: both were upbeat, fun instrumentals that one could definitely be entertained by, and they were done well (mixing, arrangement, performance - no complaints.) 

The next track also had some disco elements to it, but featured a male singer delivering some straight-up yacht rock vocals over the funkiness. 2015 Brian would not have cared for this in the slightest, but 2024 Brian, folks, is all here for the Yacht Rock.

I was hoping the trend would continue as Side A progressed, but the ol' bucket of ice water was dashed in my face pretty fast when the next track kicked off. A polka number. Heavy on the organ, no accordion to be found, so that it comes across more as a carnival ride soundtrack than an actual Polish take on Christmas. Definitely cringy, but all of these songs clock in under the 2-minute mark, so I was willing to take a point off and continue on my merry way. Fortunately, the next song is a return to Yacht Rock/Disco territory, which, while not my favorite sort of yuletide genre in the slightest, was at least following a discernible trend.

Magnum P.I. and Slenderman enjoy a sleigh ride on a magical winter's night. 

The last track on Side A, while not horrible, was a country/western instrumental done all on a quartet of guitars. And though out of place here (though the 'place,' by this point in time, is starting to get hard to keep track of), it was a decent little track. No, where everything falls of the rails in major fashion is upon flipping the record over on to Side B. . .

It's a piano-led orchestral number. Slow, serene, and it doesn't sound anything like Christmas music. It's like they pressed two different mini-albums onto one frickin' record. No more upbeat, fun music. No more Tijuana jazz, no more disco, no more yacht rock. Now it's time for introspection.

I had a bad feeling that this album was themed (I've reviewed albums in the past that were released like this), with one side the 'upbeat' Christmas music - the fun carols, etc. - and the other side the 'serious' Christmas music (you know, the 'Reason for the Season' and all that crap.)  

I hate it when albums do this.

Well, they definitely weren't kidding with the 'all the different ways you feel' crap.

My fears were well-founded, as it turns out. The next couple tracks were all filled with the usual, boring church bullshit: lots of organ, lots of hand bells, chimes, harpsichords, harmonicas (courtesy of a group called The Harmonicats - seriously, I guess that's a thing that exists), and - of course - swelling string sections. It was bad enough just as mere instrumental tracks, but by the third or fourth song in, they start rolling out the usual, overly-brash male vocals - because belting out religious carols makes it hit harder, I guess - and the standard, old-lady-warbling that you generally hear at a church service you're dragged to during the Holiday Season.

This whole album sounds like some mid-level record company executive asked his sound engineers what masters were lying around the label's studio that hadn't been previously released on prior Holiday compilations. The poor sound dudes, sighing deeply and shaking their heads, came out with a dusty cardboard box filled with a 13 reels of various songs (from all kinds of frickin' genres.) They informed this douchey superior of theirs that these reels were all that was left, but they were from various sessions over the years and there wasn't any continuity to speak of.

Then the executive, in his infinite wisdom, said 'screw it' and told them to mix them all up and have the shit pressed for release.

If it were possible to rate each side separately, I'd probably rate Side A a 6.5 (not that we condone the '0.5' system around here) and Side B a 4. But, because we are a society with f***ing rules, I can't do that, and as such, will be slapping one, big rating on the entire album as a whole.  And I'm not happy about it. At all.

VERDICT:  5/10 - Meh  (Almost good, but damn - this album does to 'compilations' what Michael Bay did to Transformers. It's so random that I want to prescribe it ADHD meds and get it in to therapy.)

- SHELVED-

- Brian

The Great Christmas Record Odyssey, Ep. CVIII

Welcome back to the Odyssey. Grab a drink, guys - you're gonna need it for this one. . .

Album Title:  Swingle Bells

Album Artist:  Various Artists

A quick glance at this one, one is immediately struck by the 'clever' play on words, Swingle Bells. You know, 'Jingle Bells'. . . buuuuuut with some kind of a 'swing' element thrown in. So when I saw this one at Radio Wasteland last weekend (this one I snatched up recently), I figured this was too good to pass up. 

I mean, 'swing' could mean several, different things. Perhaps it's the sort of swing from the 1940s, the Glenn Miller variety. Or it could also mean 'swing' in the 1960s, pop way (a la Ray Conniff, etc.) Maybe some kinda Hooked on Swing sorta thing, who knows.

But then one's eyes are drawn to the rainbow coloring of the text, and 'swingle' suddenly takes on a whole, different meaning all together. Perhaps, dear readers, 'swing' in this sense is a Saturday night party, in some South Florida gated community, where a bunch of older guys get together, drink a lot of bad things, and do lots of gross stuff to one another. Underneath the mistletoe, of course - this is a Christmas album. 

I mean honestly, this could go in a lot of different directions, folks.

Yet, now that I'm listening to it, I still don't know what to make of this album.

First things first, these aren't legit artists - if they were, they'd have their name on the front cover (or, at the very least, credited next to the songs on the track listing on the back.) No, this is like an eight-person a cappella group (too shitty to even have a frickin' name) but backed by a stripped down band of - I assume - local studio musicians. The production value of this album, while certainly not setting anyone back in terms of 'paying for talent,' is at least mixed well.

And that, dear readers, is about the only thing that this weird, weird album has going for it.

What I've learned this evening is that there is, indeed, such as thing as too much 'swing.'

The singers on this album can definitely carry a tune, so there's nothing to complain about in terms of their actual voices, per se, but rather it's the manner in which they're wielding these voices of theirs that's the issue.  There's a lot of scat-singing (I'd say 'scatting' here, but I think that has to do with animal poop or something), which actually outranks yodeling on the Most Annoying Singing Styles Scale. 

Like, why use words when you can just sing 'bum-bum-ba-dum dum, biddy-biddy-dabba-babba' and crap like that to the tune of Christmas carols?

What the f***.

Technically, there's only like eleven tracks on this particular album, but most of these are medleys, which means the overly-jazzy, full-swinging scat-singing usually stops after the first leg of the medley and then abruptly transitions into a church choir singing softly and quietly the unintelligible lyrics to some European peasant carol. You literally go from go-go dancing to German monks singing in crumbling cathedrals in only a handful of measures. Call it a medley if you want, but I think it's more accurately referred to as a shitshow.

"Thank you coming to this evening's performance.  Have a safe drive home."

Want a feeling for what this album sounds like? Pretend you and your date are going out to your local Community College for a Thursday evening (yes, Thursday evening) musical program, back in the mid-'60s. Neither of you attend said Community College, nor do you know anyone who goes there, but admission is only $2 and what the hell, right?  Well, it's the Holiday season, so you're expecting to hear some Christmas songs (that's a no-brainer) so after you guys pick up some complimentary hot chocolates and take your seats (first come first serve, folks), the 'show' starts. 

The theater and music clubs that put this on then take the stage, all dressed in black turtlenecks. There's interpretive dance, there's a small collection of beatnik musicians at the rear of the stage (all clearly high as kites), and there's a lot of spoken word deliverance between the music numbers, delivered by angry-looking women who seem to hate the Holidays just as much as they hate the Patriarchy. 

At the end of the evening, on the drive home, your date doesn't say a f***ing word to you. And you never hear from them again.

Sound like fun?  Of course it doesn't.

VERDICT:  3/10 - Seriously? (Turns out 'scat' does mean shit.)

- SHELVED-

- Brian

The Great Christmas Record Odyssey, Ep. CVII

Ladies and Gentledudes of the Internet, I present to you now the return of America's Greatest Yuletide Event:

The Great Christmas Record Odyssey.

You readers all know by now that systematically going through every, last one of my Christmas albums during the Holidays and scrutinizing the holy hell out of 'em is, without a doubt, one of my favorite Holiday traditions. This borderline weird past time of mine - a perfect storm that marries the OCD/Hough analytical side of my personality with my love of music, vinyl collecting, and the Holidays in general -  has been around since I first got into vinyl, back in 2005. Even that far back, when my collection was probably only a dozen or so LP's and compilations my Dad gave to me (or I otherwise picked up at a thrift store) and about three-dozen boxed sets I got from my Granny, I began diving deep into musty, Holiday music, cocktail in hand, and discovering all kinds of Christmas music - the good, the bad, and the ugly. Ten years later, the first year we moved back to Michigan, I began recording my analysis on this here family blog of ours, and now - seven years and over one hundred frickin' installments later - this ongoing Holiday tradition of mine runs like a well-oiled, yuletide machine.

So now, seeing how it's the first installment of this year's season of vinyl reviewin', I'll once again direct your attention to the sacred rating scale we use around these parts:

10 - . . . And Out Come the Wolves (a symbol of perfection, and arguably one of the greatest albums made in the last thirty years)

9 - Cowabunga! (if it makes you want to shout like a Ninja Turtle, you know it's good.)

8 - Awesome (worthy of repeated spins during the Holidays)

7 - Pretty Rad (generally, in order for an album of mine to stay in Holiday Season Rotation, it needs to be rated '7' and up.)

6 - Decent (once and awhile a '6' makes it into constant rotation, but only if it satisfies a previously-vacant Holiday music niche.  These albums almost always get 'Shelved':  I hold on to them - for the time being - but they lose turntable time for the duration of the Season.)

5 - Meh  (anything below this point is almost always put into my annual 'Donate to Goodwill' pile)

4 - Borophyll (there may be some redeeming qualities here that might make albums at this score appeal to some people, but definitely not Yours Truly.)

3 - Seriously? (comically bad, if you will.)

2 - Reality TV (there's only one thing shittier than Reality TV in my opinion, and that is. . .)

1 - Ohio (the Ninth Circle of Hell)

Good.  Now that everyone's been refreshed with how shit works around here, let's just go ahead and get started, shall we. . .

Album Title:  The Golden Glow of Christmas

Album Artist:  Various Artists

This one was among a stack of crappy, used vinyl that I picked up at Radio Wasteland a year or two ago (every year I go in to my local record store and drop about $20 - $25 on dollar store records to add to my To Analyze stack - I'm probably sitting on, like, fifty albums to review at this point.) I'll review them, give them a score, then drop them back off to Jim in a month or two. Usually I get some kind of a trade-in deal for 'em, so it all comes out in the wash in the end.

I kinda knew, going into this one, what I was getting myself into; probably '4' or '5' territory, based solely on the artist line-up. Probably not going to be great by any means, but also nothing overly cringe-worthy or comically bad. Just your usual quasi-boring, run-of-the-mill, 1950s/1960s Christmas compilation. God knows I've reviewed, like, forty or fifty of these sum'bitches over the last eight years.

Well, here's another one to add to that list.

Kicking things off, we have the New York Philharmonic's take on the "Hallelujah Chorus" from Handel's Messiah. Not unheard of on a holiday compilation - I've seen it multiple times before - but it's far from ideal. I wouldn't call this song Christmas 'mainstream' by any means, but rather a classical piece that's worked its way into church music over the last couple hundred years. Its appearance on holiday albums makes sense when the album in question is solely religious music (usually the case), but on a compilation that features non-religious music (such as this one) the song's inclusion is asinine. While the rendition of the song is great - no complaints here, Leonard Bernstein - it doesn't vibe well with the rest of the track list.

If you're a fan of Johnny Mathis, Doris Day, Julie Andrews, Jerry Vale, Tony Bennett or Barbara Streisand, you'd appreciate their numbers here. Nothing extraordinary or god-awful to be found on either side of this album, just the usual yuletide malaise from the same assortment of Christmas Regulars that pop up on compilations like this one. 

What would Mathis' take on 'White Christmas' sound like? It sounds exactly like you'd think it would. 

No one takes any risks with their assigned songs - they've been doing this long enough, they know how the deal works. Show up, record your song, collect your paycheck, and go home to probably scarf down a handful of amphetamines or whatever the hell all these guys were addicted to back in the 50s/60s.

'It Came Upon a Midnight Clear', courtesy of Ray Conniff & The Singers is a solid number - I'm a big fan of their Holiday album, We Wish You a Merry Christmas - and Arthur Fiedler and the Boston Pops Orchestra deliver with their well-known number 'Anderson: Sleigh Ride' (the commonly-used rendition that features the big brass sound that's one-part Christmas and two-parts College Football Marching Band at Half-Time.) 

Alas, these two numbers are the only two stand-outs in an otherwise run-of-the-mill, snoozefest of a Holiday comp that comes courtesy of the good folks over at JC Penney. 

Perhaps if those guys had been better at putting together Christmas records they'd still be in business.

VERDICT:  4/10 - Borophyll (This album is 'being dragged to JC Penney by your mom on a Sunday afternoon to buy an uncomfortable pair of khaki slacks for Christmas card pictures,' in music form.)

- SHELVED -

- Brian

The Great Christmas Record Odyssey, Ep. C

*cue elaborate fanfare*

We did it, folks.  100 Episodes of the greatest Holiday Vinyl review series on the World Wide Web (I assume - I doubt there's another asshole out there doing this.)

Because this is a special event (of sorts), I decided to mix things up a little bit with this installment.  It felt like too much of an honor for any shitty, old Christmas album pulled out of a dollar bin at a local record store to be scrutinized on this 100th Episode.  So, instead, I decided to re-evaluate a few of the past installments that were deemed acceptable enough to remain in my collection, but are now getting donated.

Bottom line is I'm running out of room in my Christmas Music crate - some of these mediocre LPs needed to be liquidated in order to make room for new additions later on down the road.  And, odds are, we'll be having another one of these mass-execution episodes in a few years - I can't just keep buying records and keeping them.  Kris would kill me.

So, without further adieu, here's the list of those old relics that are being taken out to pasture:

Album Title:  Remembering Christmas with the Big Bands

Album Artist:  Various Artists

Featured On:  Ep. 2 (Nov. 23, 2015)

Rating:  6

This album wasn't terrible, per se, but in the seven years since I reviewed this one I haven't put it on the turntable to listen to once.  Not once.  Jazz is one of those genres where you have to be in the right mood for it, and when that rare mood arises during the Holiday season when I feel like listening to jazz, I usually gravitate towards the likes of the Vince Guaraldi Trio, Sinatra, or Bing.  Sorry, Glenn Miller and Co., but the ship has sailed for you guys.

I'm sure there are thousands of World War II vets rolling in their graves over this decision, but whatever.

Album Title:  Your Favorite Christmas Music, Volume 4

Album Artist:  Various Artists

Featured On:  Ep. 6 (Dec. 1, 2015)

Rating:  6

Another perfect example of 'this is okay, but I have other LPs that are better.'  This compilation from the good people over at Firestone (seriously, what the f***) is fine example of contemporary '50s/60s music that was all the rage back in the day, but was over-shadowed by the counter-culture surge of Rock and Roll and 'the negro music.'  Traditional artists doing larger-than-necessary renditions of Christmas classics.  I honestly can't believe I gave this one a '6' seven years ago - had I reviewed this today it would probably be a '4' or a '5,' but back then I was new-ish at analyzing Christmas albums and was a little nicer when giving out scores.  Now that I'm a grumpy old man, I realize that this sounds like so many other boring Holiday albums I've reviewed over the years, and it has no business being in my record collection.

Sorry, (Mary Poppins.)

Album Title:  Enchantment of Christmas

Album Artist:  Various Artists

Featured On:  Ep. 10 (Dec. 8, 2015)

Rating:  7

This one is actually pretty good, and I don't have anything negative to really say about it - it's a great compilation of 50s/60s Christmas music.  Unfortunately, this version is in that VG/G+ range in terms of sound quality: no skips or pops, but some definite surface noise, and if I'm going to hold on to a record I want to make sure I have a decent copy of it.  More than that, however, is the fact that I already have every, last one of these songs on a multi-record, boxed set that's in NM condition, so owning this LP is, honestly, kinda redundant. 

Album Title:  The Little Drummer Boy

Album Artist:  The Abbey Chorale

Featured On:  Ep. 17 (Dec. 20, 2015)

Rating:  6

This one I felt bad about getting rid of at first, but then I realized the error in my ways back in 2015.  See, when I first reviewed this one, I wrongly assumed that this version of 'The Little Drummer Boy' was the definitive one - the classic one from the 1950's that everyone knows.  I can't be faulted too much for that, because it sounds nearly identical, but the version I was thinking about was the famous rendition by The Harry Simeone Chorale (1958.)  That (better) version I already own on an existing Holiday compilation, so there's no reason for me owning an album such as this if the only reason I'm doing so is because of that song.  The rest of the album is okay - like I said before, it's churchy, but done well - but I've rarely listened to it in the years since reviewing it the first time.  

I don't get the need to listen to church music very often (if ever), so this one's getting pitched as well.

Album Title:  What if Mozart Wrote Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas?

Album Artist:  The Hampton String Quartet

Featured On:  Ep. 22 (Dec. 1, 2016)

Rating:  6

I love Classical music, and I love Christmas music, so this one should be a knock out of the park, but it just doesn't work for me.  I've actually listened to this one on occasion since hearing it for the first time back in 2016, and every time I do so I get bored with it.  It's a cool enough concept in theory, but the execution doesn't leave one with feeling the Yuletide vibes at all.  Most of the songs on here require active listening in order to identify a familiar Holiday melody, and that kinda dampens this one on the ol' Fun scale.

Album Title:  A Merry Christmas to You

Album Artist:  David Rose and His Orchestra

Featured On:  Ep. 71 (Dec. 8, 2020)

Rating:  6

This is a pretty solid instrumental album, and sounds like the orchestral, backing music to any one of the countless '50s compilations I've reviewed in the past.  It sounds like the sort of music Sinatra or Bing sang over, and it's mixed well - great background music for the Holiday season.  That being said, this copy is in pretty rough shape, and I have other instrumental albums that I gravitate more towards during the Holiday season.  Like I stated originally, there aren't a lot of highs and lows on this album to keep the listener engaged:  the medleys keep things from getting too boring, but a lot of it starts to sound the same after awhile.  All in all, I'd recommend it for sure if a.) you have a decent copy and b.) don't have anything else similar in your collection.

Album Title:  Christmas with The Canadian Brass and the Great Organ of St. Patrick's Cathedral

Album Artist:  The Canadian Brass

Featured On:  Ep. 90 (Dec. 15, 2021)

Rating:  6

How this LP still works is beyond me - it's not bad at all, but it's not necessarily great either.  It's just okay.  Like all of the other albums in today's post, there's not a lot to complain about, but there are better options in my collection, and I have to trim fat from somewhere.  I held on to this one because of the sheer balls of the brass section - it's not a sound you hear often on a Christmas album, so last year I deemed it was worth holding on to.  I would probably still be holding on to it if I hadn't just had my socks blown off a few days ago when reviewing this similar-but-better, brass-heavy Christmas album.

VERDICT:  n/a (We bid farewell to a few mediocre installments from the previous seven or eight years that were once deemed good enough to remain in Holiday Rotation, but shall now walk The Green Mile in order to make room for new additions in the coming years.)

- SHELVED -

- Brian

The Great Christmas Record Odyssey, Ep. LXXXIX

Time to get some Q.T in with the Rog, folks. . . 

Album Title:  The Roger Whittaker Christmas Album

Album Artist:  Roger Whittaker

If you've ever spent time in a thrift store digging through crates of moldy vinyl, searching for those usually non-existent rare finds, then you've definitely come across the name 'Roger Whitaker' before.  He shares crate space with the likes of Mantovani, Lawrence Welk, The Lettermen, and others of such ilk in just about every Salvation Army and Goodwill I've ever set foot in.

And folks, that's not a good thing.  There's a reason why folks dump such records off for a cheap tax write-off (along with soiled and outgrown childrens' clothing and tacky dishware that were found in a deceased grandparent's cupboards):  it's straight-up garbage.

Someone get this man some Head & Shoulders. . .

I've come across Roger a handful of times over the years, always on compilations (featuring some of the previously mentioned assholes), and I've never once been impressed by the guy.  How this dude managed to sell so many albums in his prime is beyond comprehension.  While listening to the opening track on Side 1 of this album, I'm convinced he's trying to be Cat Stevens (kinda almost sounds like him for a hot minute), until the slicked-up 70's production kicks in and the entire track drowns in cheese.  

After that opener, the album descends into music that can only be described as Grandparent Easy Listening.  The dude's got a baritone voice, for sure, but he can't seem to manage to bring that sense of gravitas to his songs like Elvis, Johnny Cash, Joe Cocker, or other similarly deep-voiced singers can do.  Nay, readers, Roger sounds like he's got one corduroy-slacked leg into an afternoon nap.  This near-yawning of his warbles along atop dated song arrangements that sound SO Late '70s you can almost picture the pornographic film they were likely inspired by. 

These two factors, while not doing Roger any favors when determining this album's overall rating, could be somewhat overlooked if the son of a bitch would at least have put some familiar Christmas songs on this release.  But no, we don't get any familiarity here whatsoever - it's a bunch of oddball weirdness, and honestly it's like some wood-paneled, shag-carpeted, parallel dimension where the only Christmas music that exists is bullshit that no one's ever heard before. 

All of these previously unheard of Christmas songs are boring and forgettable (hence this album's unavoidable return to the moldy crates of Salvation Army very soon), but a couple of songs on this album are so Goddamn terrible that I have to mention them briefly by name before we go: 

Side 1, Track 5. 'Darcy the Dragon.'  This Medieval romp sounds like Jethro Tull offered to take on a rock opera based on Disney's 1977 film, Pete's Dragon.  Renaissance Faire peasant music gallivants along in the background while an obviously-stoned Roger spins a yarn about a misunderstood dragon being chased out of a village or something by angry peasants, where he ends up in a magical forests and somehow - somehow - discovers the meaning of Christmas.  Or something, I don't know - it's only like three minutes minutes into the damn song that they somehow work Christmas into the lyrics.  I don't get why this song exists.

Side 1, Track 6. 'The Governor's Dream.'  The very next song, equally f***ed up, is some half-spoken word, half-song mini-play about Ancient Rome, wherein Roger plays the part of some Roman Governor who is troubled by. . . the Nativity?  An omen?  Something to do with Baby Jesus, I'm sure - how else are Romans being associated with Christmas if not by association with Baby Jesus?  So Roger acts out this song, speaking instead of singing quite a lot of the time, but then the music kicks in and a loud, boisterous chorus begins to rattle the rafters.  What ensues is a full-on shouting match with his backing choir, who continue to sing stuff like, 'Glory, Glory,' etc., and in return he starts barking at them like an angry, old racist yelling at a bunch of black teens to stop using the sidewalk in front of his house.  Repeated bellowing of "WHO SINGS, WHO SHOUTS?" from Roger Whittaker is just what the house was missing this Holiday Season, for sure.

At the end of listening to this album, I'm sure my facial expression matched the one on the kid to the far left:

VERDICT:  3/10 - Seriously? (WHO SINGS, WHO SHOUTS???)

- SHELVED -

- Brian

The Great Christmas Record Odyssey, Ep. LXXXII

Look sharp, America - we have ourselves a genuine Holiday celebrity to deal with this evening. . . 

Album Title:  Have a Holly Jolly Christmas

Album Artist:  Burl Ives

Burl.

What kind of a parent looks down at a newborn baby and says, "Yup, 100%.  This baby looks like a Burl."  That parent must've been three sheets to the wind that day - it's a good thing Burl wasn't born with fetal alcohol syndrome.

Snow Bro.

Anyway, the poorly-monikered Mr. Ives is as recognizable around the Holiday Season as Santa Claus and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. . . more or less because all three of these guys were in the same movie together.  Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer - the stop-animation classic that came out in, like, the 1940s or something and has since become one of the most prolific Christmas movies in existence - features ol' buddy Burl as the voice of the film's narrator (a snowman who looks an Asian Wilford Brimley.)  Because of his role in the movie, and the fact that he sings a couple songs as well (which are on this album, actually), it's easy to slip right into this album and make yourself at home.

This is a really crappy graphics job. . .

The opening/title track of this album is the aforementioned one from Rudolph, and any person in Western Civilization could readily identify it.  This no-brainer of a Christmas jam has been covered many, many times, but no version I'm aware of holds a candle to the original.  It's not that Burl's necessarily a good singer (he's okay, I guess, but his voice is more novelty than talent), or that the song itself is awesome, it just oozes with nostalgia.  EVERYONE grew up with this song, so it's part of our shared Christmas experience.

If the entirety of Burl's album generated this type of emotional response, then we'd have a definitive Christmas classic on our hands (like Vince Guaraldi Trios' Charlie Brown Christmas, for example.)  Sadly, that's not the case with this particular album, because it loses its audience right away at the beginning of the second track.  

Burl, famous in the secular Christmas sphere, wanders over into the religious part of the Holiday season, singing about Jesus' birthday and what not.  To say this is jarring would be an understatement:  the churchy stuff is about as far removed from Santa, Christmas Trees, Rudolph, etc. as you can get, so when you have the guy that was literally a f***ing snowman suddenly singing about Jesus, it's like getting dosed with a bucket of ice water after stepping out of a sauna.  It's hard to separate Burl's voice singing about Jesus with the mental imagery of Wilford Brimley Snowman. . . and having a Wilford Brimley Snowman singing about Jesus would be. . . . well. . . just terrifying.

This slap on the face happens a few times on this album, but honestly that's my only gripe (even though I think it's a substantial one.)  If you like hokey 60s Christmas music, slathered up and down with Christmas nostalgia and invoking the memories of dozens of Christmases from yesteryear, then this album is for you.  Burl kills it on the children's songs ("Santa Claus is Coming to Town," the jams from Rudolph, etc.), as well as on the more secular songs - you can tell where his comfort zone is, for sure.

A folk singer by trade, Burl's unique voice - which you either like or despise - fits the song arrangements pretty well.  Not necessarily something you'd want to jam out to all the time, of course, but as was the case with quite a few albums I've reviewed in the past, this album fits a unique niche.  For those nights when you're perhaps looking through old photo albums of past Christmases by a fire, or writing out addresses on Christmas cards, or other such quiet, contemplative moments of the season, this is a sound choice.

VERDICT:  6/10 - Decent (I was going to give this a '7,' because overall it's pretty good, but aside from his upbeat, famous songs, all his other secular stuff is just decent. . . and his religious stuff is pretty weird.  I'm gonna keep this one, but can't say how often it's going to end up getting played every year.)

- SHELVED -

- Brian